


The Party's Over

by bakedgarnet



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies)
Genre: F/F, Post-Movie, Tumblr Prompt, slight canon alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 12:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16388177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakedgarnet/pseuds/bakedgarnet
Summary: Prompt: Helen and Evelyn drunkenly slow-dancing to The Party's OverSummary: During DevTech's fundraising event, months after Supers have become legalized and Elastigirl has amicably departed from the company following the end of their project, Evelyn and Elastigirl escape the party for a drink and reconnection.





	The Party's Over

Evelyn would do anything for her little brother.

 

She remembered one time, back when their parents were still alive and her biggest concern was whether or not they’d be home for dinner or if the nanny would be the one tucking them into bed that night, when Winston’s faith in Supers was shaken a bit.

 

Evelyn had made a slick comment, as older sisters did, about something along the lines of the probability of Supers being able to come save every single person who needed help at once. Dynaguy had even said, at one of the few dinners their father had hosted for some of his favorite Supers, that there were often times where heroes had to weigh the amount of damage caused by one tragedy versus another and make an executive decision. She wasn’t trying to be malicious, Evelyn was just always a preteen of facts.

 

Well, Winston took it to heart. And, God help his nine year old soul, screamed bloody murder after a nightmare that very evening. Inconsolable as he was, Evelyn was able to rush to his room and eventually quiet him down before their parents could wake up, but he was still a hiccuping, gasping, sniffling mess despite her best efforts.

 

His terror, borne from the idea that Supers weren’t  _ always _ available to protect him from whatever horrific conjurings existed beneath his bed and within his closet, was one that hit Evelyn directly in her heart. As much as she hated taking on the role of a caretaker when the nanny or their parents couldn’t, Winston was her responsibility. She didn’t look at him like a leech of the endless attention she used to receive from their parents, or like a life sized baby doll to dress up and tug around as she pleased. He was always her equal, always shining into her heart with a love she felt for no one else. 

 

So, she sat up all night in the rocking chair still left beside his bed from when he was an infant, and promised to keep watch as he slept. Of course they had school the next morning, and her homework was already finished, so to keep herself awake she worked through nearly half of their math textbook and taught herself enough that she wouldn’t have to pay attention in class for the next year. 

 

She would do anything for Winston.

 

Including go to DevTech’s utterly pointless fundraising event.

 

Pointless because they could each fund their inventions with a single paycheck, but it would be great for publicity, and gave Winston a chance to charm a few other big names in the industry. He begged her to be there, to cover more ground since he couldn’t possibly talk to every single investor that night, and she said yes.

 

Reluctantly.

 

They were to make an event out of it, host newly legalized Supers some of the biggest names in Jazz.

 

The event was hosted in the Metroville Museum of Contemporary Art, a grand building with winding arches and ceilings so high and painted with cathedral art that they may as well have been looking up into heaven itself. The domed center of the ceiling stretched endlessly toward the sky, and Evelyn found her eyes drawn to it every second that she avoided making eye contact around the room with a stranger she didn’t feel like speaking to.

 

Then she was meeting the eyes of someone who wasn’t such a stranger at all, and Elastigirl was stepping through throngs of the 1% in a blood red dress that was easily meant to call back to her old supersuit, and an obsidian mask that hid half of her gently shaped face. Her auburn tresses were piled atop her head in an intricate mix of twists and hairpins and Evelyn’s stomach dipped with something she had nearly forgotten.

 

“Ev, hey!”

 

She felt a smile overtake her face in a way that was entirely out of her control, a natural reaction to seeing the hero sweep through the crowd with a gracefulness that she would have envied if she weren’t so hopelessly attracted to it.

 

Evelyn Deavor didn’t get  _ crushes _ — she was thirty-six years old and above that— but Elastigirl was the equivalent of her favorite bottle of Merlot. She made her feel warm down to her toes, and made for a delicious end to a long day.

 

It didn’t help that a married woman was always a door marked  _ Do Not Enter, _ and Evelyn’s always had a hard time being told what she can’t do. This was never to say that she and Elastigirl played this game just because they weren’t supposed to, there was something that drew them to each other like a divine hand guiding them together, but the thrill of it all was like no other.

 

And they were both women who lived to toe the line.

 

Elastigirl had been at her prime scandalousness when she was first starting hero work— the blood red thigh high boots and leotard that left nothing to the imagination was blasted mercilessly all throughout the media when Evelyn was around seventeen years old. Mothers coming out of the woodwork to condemn the, admittedly likeable, hero and undermine everything she’d ever done. It didn’t help that Elastigirl was also a radicalized feminist who regularly took it upon herself to give a massive middle finger to the patriarchy whenever she could. 

 

Elastigirl being gay was a popular rumor that only ended upon her marriage to Mr. Incredible, but Evelyn was thrilled to learn so many years later that she did, in fact, love women as well as men.

 

And so now here they were, standing before each other, surrounded by the richest names on this coast, and the only thing that stopped Evelyn from licking her lips was the deep red lipstick coating them that she would be loathe to ruin on anything but the skin of the woman in front of her.

 

“Elastigirl. It’s been a while,” Evelyn smiled slowly, feeling a dangerous sensation in her chest that told her to  _ take _ , and  _ take _ , and  _ take _ .

 

“A few months too long. Did you get Supers legalized and forget about me?”

 

Elastigirl took another slow step toward Evelyn, close enough that they were in a more intimate position than most, but not enough it that immediately raised any suspicion. She smelled of a heady perfume that made Evelyn take an inconspicuous deep breath, and it took everything in her not to reach out and touch something so entrancing.

 

“Forget about you? You know better than that,” Evelyn murmured lowly. Despite the jazz music filtering through the venue and the constant chatter of nothing but loud men in expensive suits, it was as if no one else was in their bubble besides them.

 

“You could’ve called, you know.”

 

“You have a family,” Evelyn responded immediately, though she knew that was a flimsy excuse.

 

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

 

And Evelyn knew that it hadn’t. Truthfully, she had no idea why she didn’t call. Something about taking the step after their work together was done felt too invasive— and maybe she was secretly afraid that Elastigirl would return to her home life and realize that what they had together was a mistake anyway.

 

Maybe Evelyn was terrified of rejection.

 

“Last I checked, the phone works both ways,” Evelyn raised an eyebrow, a smile still playing on her lips, and she watched the hero concede with a shrug and nod.

 

“Alright, fair,” she paused for a long moment, eyes flickering between both of Evelyn’s as she thought before finally saying, “I missed you.”

 

“Hm,” Evelyn hummed, holding herself back from smiling any bigger than she already was, “I guess we have some time to make up for, then.”

 

The throngs of people around them, namely businessmen joined by their wives or business partners, were far too immersed in networking to glance twice at the two of them. 

 

The rest of the Supers invited to the occasion were meandering about, dressed for the event, yes, but their masks still made them stand starkly out of place. Elastigirl was by no means invisible, but they seemed to have caught each other at the perfect moment to be unnoticed.

 

“Where’s Mr. Incredible?” Evelyn asked suddenly. She knew that Winston would never in his life forget to invite one of his idols to such an event, but Evelyn didn’t see the massive hero anywhere. Something strange shifted in her stomach as she waited for Elastigirl’s answer, and she tried in vain to stop it in its tracks.

 

“At home with the kids; Frozone’s there to help out. Mr. Incredible and I trade off on public appearances, keep it fair.”

 

“Quite the partnership,” Evelyn smiled politely, feeling her eyes narrow just the smallest amount in response to the hint of jealousy that sat itself right beneath her tongue. 

 

“Mhm. Can I get you a drink?”

 

Evelyn waved the offer off, beginning to step around Elastigirl and make her way toward the elevator down a hallway and around the corner. 

 

“I brought the good stuff to keep in an office upstairs. Y’know, in case I needed to get away for a bit.”

 

The steady click of Elastigirl’s heels behind her made Evelyn’s heartbeat quicken with anticipation. She rounded the corner and pressed the upward facing arrow to call the elevator down to their level. Turning around then and giving the hero a knowing look, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she and Elastigirl both finished in unison, “To escape the grip-and-grin.”

 

The shock at speaking at the same time stunned them both for half a second before laughter was bubbling into the air between them, pure and familiar. The gentle brown of Elastigirl’s gaze was sharp with a twinkle that Evelyn would recognize from across the room. It was the one that announced the line that they both quickly approached every time— and every time they danced on it as if one misstep wouldn’t bring everything crashing down around them both.

 

They stepped onto the elevator as soon as it arrived with its piercing  _ ding _ and opened itself wide. The ride up was silent for several floors, and the tightness in Evelyn’s chest made its way down until her stomach was clenched and her hands were fisted at her sides. When they finally made it to the eighth floor, typically restricted from guests, but allowed with the swipe of an executive key card gifted to the Deavors for the event only, Elastigirl seemed to be taken aback by the decor. Her eyes roved the marble flooring and modernized open space that hosted an empty receptionist’s desk and several glass doors that gave way to at least seven different offices. 

 

Evelyn lead the hero toward one with an ease that spoke to how many times she had been there already, coordinating with the owner of the museum and event planners alike in the very office she had been loaned. Long since used to the number of favors awarded to anyone carrying the Deavor name, the novelty of the privilege was partially lost on her, but if Elastigirl’s widened eyes were any indication, these things were impressive.

 

Evelyn approached her large black leather purse sitting atop the desk after swiping herself into the room with the same keycard and holding the door open for Elastigirl to follow her inside. 

 

She gripped the neck of the whisky bottle in one hand and waved it a bit between the two of them with a proud grin on her lips. The hero’s eyes widened even further, looking comically large and the whites of her eyes especially bright against the black mask adorning her face.

 

“Is that—”

 

“Glenlivet. Malt whisky. Are you a fan?”

 

Elastigirl blinked several times before taking a couple of steps forward, eyes locked onto the bottle with a look of disbelief dancing behind them as she opened and closed her mouth before speaking.

 

“Am I a fan? Evelyn, I haven’t had this since... well, since before Supers got outlawed,” she said with unmistakable nostalgia coloring her tone.

 

“Yeah? Had the big dogs buying you expensive drinks back in the day, huh? Must’ve been the life,” Evelyn chuckled.

 

“Well, it was a different time back then,” Elastigirl murmured, and her fingers trailed lightly over the mahogany desk to their right. Her obsidian gloves left no smudge against the surface, and her heels were silent against the short, gray carpet as she slowly shifted forward. Evelyn tilted her body backward until her lower back rested against the desk, and she leaned over to the opposite end of the wood to lift two upside down glasses laying atop a silver tray and set them down in the smallest amount of space that existed between the two of them.

 

Evelyn curled her fingers around the cap of the bottle and cracked it open to pour two fingers out for both of them. The brown liquid tumbled into the glasses gracelessly, sloshing up the sides before settling in twin, darkened pools of copper. The light shining behind Elastigirl’s eyes was one that Evelyn felt personally responsible for, and the warmth that gathered in her stomach was better than any eighteen year old whisky. The only lighting of the office shone in the form of the moon and streetlights that illuminated the sides of their faces and bathed the office in a gentle glow.

 

“Do you miss it?” Evelyn asked.

 

“Sometimes— but I don’t think it was  _ better _ than now. Now is pretty damn good.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Evelyn responded with a raised brow, taking a deep swig of the dry, spicy liquid. It smelled of something sweet beneath her nose, like dark chocolate and cherries. 

 

Elastigirl’s gaze dragged up from her drink, which she had taken a long pull from as well, and burned her gaze into Evelyn’s so intensely that her palms grew clammy.

 

“Yeah.” She held the glass back out toward Evelyn in a gesture for her to refill it, and the other woman flashed a knowing grin as she tilted the neck of the whisky bottle back down and poured twice as much as before. She twisted the cap back onto the bottle and set it down beside them with a gentle  _ thunk _ .

 

Finishing off her glass, Evelyn hummed into the cup suddenly, remembering something she ought not have forgotten. She pushed herself back up until her weight was on her feet instead of against the desk and walked over to the opposite side of the office to fidget with the sound system pressed up against the wall. 

 

“What’re you doing?” Elastigirl asked, one arm crossed over her torso and the other elbow propped up against the forearm, that hand holding her glass between her thumb and forefinger.

 

“One… second…” Evelyn murmured, pressing several buttons before the slow filter of tinny, soul-filling jazz permeated the room. She stood up straight and turned around on her heel to look at the hero expectantly.  “I figured we could keep the party going up here.”

 

The breath of laughter that pushed through Elastigirl’s lips and turned the corners up just slightly made Evelyn feel something like giddiness settling in her chest, and to quell the sensation, she moved back over to the desk and refilled her glass with a couple more fingers of whisky before throwing it all back and filling it once more.

 

They talked for an amount of time that Evelyn lost track of quickly. The night was getting later, that much she could tell, but the concept of how long, exactly, they had been away from the event downstairs was far away from her. She was feeling the whisky acutely in the warmth of her stomach that radiated throughout her entire body. Elastigirl's eyes were low, and roamed around Evelyn’s face with a lethargy that she felt in her own bones. Half of the bottle was gone between the both of them, and it was at that very moment Evelyn realized how close they were sitting next to each other atop the mahogany wood of the desk. The scent of the hero’s perfume surrounded her entirely, gripping at the edges of every single sense she had and spinning them all until she was in utter suspension. 

 

“Dance with me,” Elastigirl said suddenly.

 

Evelyn’s ears tuned back into the music dancing through the speakers at the reminder that there even was music playing at all. The beginning notes of Nat King Cole’s  _ Party’s Over _ from several years back caressed her ears, and she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet and into Elastigirl’s embrace. Her gloved hand slid around the small of her waist and pulled her forward until their torsos were flush against each other, and Evelyn’s breath rushed out of her nose quickly before she laughed a bit to fight against how flustered she truly was. 

 

She reached up to wrap her arms around Elastigirl’s neck and allowed her face to fall forward until her forehead was rested against the taller woman’s collarbone. The familiar feeling of her head spinning from the alcohol kept her from closing her eyes, though, and eventually she tilted her head to look back up into deep brown eyes as they swayed from side to side. 

 

“Why didn’t you call me?” Elastigirl asked so quietly that Evelyn nearly didn’t hear her, and the undertone of sadness in her voice pierced straight through her gut.

 

Evelyn sighed heavily, closing her eyes before reopening them only when they faced the floor to their side, “I told you—”

 

“You don’t care that I have a family. Stop lying to me,” Elastigirl snapped a bit more harshly than Evelyn expected her to.

 

“I didn’t think you wanted me to,” Evelyn retorted in the same tone, “I thought it would be  _ best _ …” she sighed, “if I didn’t.”

 

Instead of responding, instead of answering the question of why on earth Elastigirl would put her marriage in jeopardy for her, Evelyn felt a hot hand through a thin glove on her jaw that was tilting her face upward until she was staring back into earthy eyes.

 

“Stop thinking so much,” Elastigirl murmured, and before Evelyn could even gather her mind to ask another question or make another comment, soft lips were falling upon hers, and her entire world was bathed in light. The hero’s lips had the rich taste of the alcohol they shared, and soon Evelyn knew that her tongue did too.

 

She melted into Elastigirl’s embrace, the tight material of her blood red dress rubbing up against her own black and white pinstriped one. One hand tightened into the intricately styled, auburn tresses at the nape of her neck while the other trailed down to rest on the soft protrusion of her collarbone. 

 

Their lips moved together languidly, pushing and pulling like the tide kissing and receding from the shore. Colors swam behind Evelyn’s closed eyes, ones that swirled and bounced and exploded along with the rapid pounding of her heartbeat in her ears and the burning in her lungs. The slow and soothing sound of Nat King Cole’s voice wrapped them up until they were washed in a audial caress. 

 

One of the hero’s hands gripped the one that was resting upon her collar bone, and she intertwined their fingers together with a grip that felt like she was begging for an anchor to keep her from floating away. Evelyn clenched her hand back just as tightly, holding it between their chests as the feeling of molten lava flowed through her veins and pooled in her cheeks and neck.

 

When they finally broke apart, Elastigirl’s eyes were still closed behind the mask, lips parted just barely as she seemed to be gathering herself. Both of their breaths rushed out into the small amount of space between them, jagged and heavy. Without opening her eyes, one hand that had gripped itself posessively onto Evelyn’s hip pulled away so slowly that Evelyn had no idea what to expect from the action.

 

She waited suspended in that moment of in-betweenness— the air around them still and silent as she watched those gloved fingers rise, and rise, and rise until they hesitated for the longest amount of time in front of Elastigirl’s face.

 

With a movement so quick that she would have missed it in a single blink, the mask was discarded into a dropped hand, hanging tensely beside a thigh wrapped in crimson cloth. 

 

Evelyn’s gaze trailed up from where it hung until she was meeting such familiar brown eyes again, and this time they were untouched by the mysterious effects of a single article disguising identity. She swallowed heavily before taking a deep, steadying breath as she realized the gravity of such a small action. 

 

Elastigirl looked gentle— her face rounder than the mask had initially made it seem. She was youthful still.

 

And absolutely beautiful.

 

“Elastigirl—”

 

“You can call me Helen.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the prompt from make-evelyn-canonically-gay-brad on tumblr! I know the prompts were for 1k words but this one got away from me haha. Thanks to you all for reading, and feel free to send more prompts my way on tumblr (bakedgarnet)!


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